<b>Chapter </b><b>15 </b>
<b>Skye’s </b><b>POV </b>
Strong arms wrapped around my waist from behind, pulling me against a solid chest. The scent hit me immediately–cheap whiskey and stale <b>sweat</b><b>. </b>Not the ocean scent I’d feared, but something far more mundane and equally dangerous.
I <b>twisted </b>my head to see arge, heavyset man with a face reddened by years of drinking. His bulbous nose glowed almost purple in the dim parking lot light. Recognition flickered through my panic–he was one of the new ranch hands who’d starteding to The Watering Hole about a <b>week </b>ago.
I couldn’t remember his name, but I remembered serving him shot after shot of bottom–shelf whiskey earlier, tonight.
“Let go of me!” I shouted, pushing against his beefy arms with all my strength. “What do you think you’re doing?”
Rather than releasing me, his grip tightened painfully. His hot, alcohol–soaked breath hit my cheek as leaned in closer.
<b>Always </b>seen you alone, he slurred, his voice oily with intention. “Pretty girl like you needs a man. How ‘bout being <b>my </b>girlfriend, huh?”
Revulsion crawled across my skin like insects. Being raised in a werewolf pack had taught me to <b>defend </b><b>myself</b><b>, </b>even without <b>my </b>wolf. Ethan had made sure of that, spending countless hours teaching me defensive moves ‘just in case.” This was definitely a <b>case</b>.
I drove my elbow back with all my strength, connecting with his jaw. The shock of the impact loosened his grip <b>just </b>enough.
“Disgusting! <b>Not </b>a chance!” I spat, twisting out of his <b>grasp</b>.<fn267c> Original content can be found at find~novel</fn267c>
I bolted toward my <b>car</b><b>, </b>keys clutched so tightly they bit into my palm. Behind me, I heard him stumbling to his <b>feet</b><b>, </b>cursing loudly.
“Fucking bitch!” <b>he </b>roared, his heavy footsteps thundering after me.
My fingers had just touched the <b>cool </b>metal of my <b>car </b>door handle when <b>a </b>vicious yank on my hair sent shock waves <b>of </b>pain through <b>my </b>scalp. My head snapped backward as he dragged me away from the safety of my vehicle. I lost my bnce<b>, </b>crashing painfully to the <b>gravel </b>parking lot.
Before I could regain my footing, his weight crushed down on me<b>, </b>pinning me to the ground. The stench of him–sweat, alcohol, and tobo<b>–</b>made me gag as he loomed over me, his intentions clear in his bloodshot eyes.
<b>I </b><b>wasn’t </b>giving up. Not like this. I bucked wildly underneath him, managing to bring my knee <b>up </b>sharply between his legs. He howled in pain<b>, </b>momentarily loosening his hold. I scrambled forward, trying to escape.
Then came the sound that would haunt my nightmares–the <b>distinctive </b>click of <b>a </b>revolver’s hammer being cocked, followed by the deafening crack of a <b>gunshot</b>.
Fire bloomed in my chest. A white–hot, searing pain that knocked the breath from my lungs. Stunned, I pressed my hand to the source and <b>felt </b>warm wetness <b>spreading </b>across my shirt. When I pulled my hand <b>away</b><b>, </b>it <b>was </b>coated in <b>crimson</b>.
<b>He </b>shot me. He actually shot me.
The world tilted sideways as shock set in. <b>I </b>stumbled forward<b>, </b>still desperate <b>to </b>reach my <b>car</b>, my sanctuary<b>. </b><b>Each </b>step was heavier than the <bst</b><b>, </b>my vision darkening at the edges. <b>After </b>just a few feet<b>, </b>my knees buckled.
I copsed onto the <b>gravel</b><b>, </b>the sharp stones digging into my skin barely registering against the agony in my chest. The taste of <b>copper </b>filled my mouth as <b>I </b><b>struggled </b>to breathe.
Sinking to my knees, I raised my eyes to the night sky. The full moon hung there, distant and indifferent to <b>my </b><b>suffering</b>. <b>For </b>the first <b>time </b>in my life<b>, </b><b>bitter </b><b>resentment </b><b>toward </b><b>the </b>Moon Goddess welled up inside me.
I had never been disrespectful, not even when Leon rejected <b>me </b>in front of the entire pack. I had <b>epted my </b>fate without cursing <b>her </b>name.
<b>But </b>now, dying alone in a desert parking lot, about to be vited by a drunken human, thousands <b>of </b>miles <b>from </b>anyone who <b>loved </b>me–<b>now </b><b>I </b><b>felt </b>hatred toward the <b>deity </b>who had denied me <b>my </b>wolf, denied <b>me </b><b>the </b>strength to protect <b>myself</b>.
<b>1/2 </b>
Why I <b>silently </b><b>demanded </b><b>of </b><b>the </b><b>uncaring </b><b>celestial </b><b>body</b>. <b>Why </b><b>am </b><b>I </b>without a wolf? What <b>did </b>I <b>do </b><b>to </b><b>deserve </b><b>this</b><b>? </b>
<b>télosed </b><b>my </b><b>eyes</b><b>, </b><b>preparing </b>for the worst–his <b>hands </b><b>on </b>me again, <b>my </b>life draining away in this godforsaken ce, with no one to mourn <b>me</b>, no one to even <b>know </b><b>what </b><b>had </b>happened to me.
<b>Instead</b>, the <b>night </b>air shattered with the sound of a wolf’s howl–deep, powerful, and terrifyingly close.
<b>My </b>eyes flew open <b>in </b>time to see a blur of gray furunch through the air. The massive wolf collided with my attacker, their bodies hitting the <b>ground </b>with enough force to send gravel spraying in all directions. There was a short, strangled scream, cut off with sickening abruptness, followed by the wet, tearing <b>sounds </b><b>I </b>recognized from pack hunts back home.
Through the growing haze of my consciousness<b>, </b>I watched as the wolf–its muzzle now dark with blood–padded toward me. The transformation <b>happened </b>so quickly I almost missed it: bones shifting, fur receding, the lupine form straightening into that of a naked man.
Adrian crouched beside me, his amber eyes wide with concern, his strong hands gently lifting me from the ground. His ocean scent washed over <b>me</b><b>, </b>somehow calming despite the terror of the situation.
Skye? Skye, can you hear me?” His voice seemed toe from very far away, though his face was just inches from mine. “Stay with me. I’m going to <b>get </b>you help<b>. </b>
The warmth of his bare skin against my cold body felt oddlyforting as he cradled me against his chest<b>. </b>The <bst </b>thing I registered before darkness imed me was his scent–pine forest after rainfall with undertones of <b>ocean</b>, wrapping around <b>me </b>like <b>a </b><b>protective </b>nket.
“Adrian<b>,</b><b>” </b><b>I </b>whispered, though I wasn’t sure if the word actually left my <b>lips</b>.
Then there was nothing but silence and the endless dark.
<b>Chapter </b><b>Comments </b>
Tanya Gordon
is Adrian her 2nd chance Mate?
Jamie DeWitt